Seasons Change, but Not Us
by MrsRen
Summary: Summer romances have to end at the end of summer, don't they? [DRABBLE ONESHOT.]


**For Cherie, who is the best mentee to my mentor by allowing me to believe I have any idea what I'm doing. You said you liked fluff, romance, and happy endings. Hopefully, this will make you happy even though it's not really fluff. Happy Birthday, girl. **

**Prompt I worked from since I needed a sense of direction: As she stepped on the train, it took everything I had not to climb on after her. **

**And grammarly was my beta. **

* * *

They spent a summer together. It wasn't meant to happen, not with her being a war hero, and him being a war...something. They didn't focus on the outside world, the friends that were waiting for her, or what was waiting for him.

From the beginning, Granger had made it clear that she was returning for Hogwarts for the repeat year. She'd attempted to coax him into going alongside her, all while biting her pouty lower lip, or tucking her hair behind her ear. "It wouldn't be so bad, would it?" Granger asked. "I'd be there, and this—"

He cut her off that night, unable to watch her go down a path that included a scrap of a future with him. "This ends at the end of summer," Draco said quietly. "That's what we agreed, isn't it?" Waves crashed against the shore, the water reaching their toes and she dug her toes into the sand.

"Yes," she murmured. "That's what we agreed on." But then she said something so low that he wasn't sure he'd heard it at all, but it sounded suspiciously like, "But I don't think I want that anymore."

Life in summer seemed to stretch on and on. From throwing her into the water—which always made her angry—to cliff jumping—her idea, typical Gryffindor—to the nights they spent counting stars—"you're such a fucking sap, Malfoy—and to finally the nights that he found himself buried inside of her cunt while she begged for more.

Her nails cut into his shoulders, her legs locking around his waist.

Every single memory sharpened into focus for him with crystal clear clarity as they stood on the platform of King's Cross. He hadn't intended to show his face, not when he'd made her cry the last time they had parted.

Granger left Potter, and Weasley, both of whom were eying him warily. "Why are you here?" Her bottom lip trembled as she said it, but there was no venom in her voice. Just the sadness that he had caused. "I thought you said you wouldn't see me off if it was the last thing you did."

He sucked in a breath. He definitely deserved that. "I miss you so much that it feels like my chest is about to cave in on itself," Draco admitted that he didn't like to express vulnerability, but maybe, just _maybe_, he'd win her back if she saw it.

Whisky coloured eyes widened as she stared at him, two steps apart. "You're being serious?" She asked.

Draco nodded. "Pushing you away was a mistake."

"Then why did you do it?" She took a small step closer, beginning to close the gap.

He hoped that would say something about the two of them.

He tucked his hands into his pockets. "You deserve a lot better than me, Granger. I won't pretend that's not true. I'm, well, you already know."

"I don't want better. I want _you._" She rolled her eyes, inching closer to him. "Are you being serious? Do you want to give this a try?"

Draco's chest rose and fell with each breath. "Yes, I'll do anything."

Granger glanced over her shoulder where the conductor was calling for the last of the students to board. "I'll owl you as much as I can. Maybe you can visit me on Hogsmeade weekends? You could get a room at the Three Broomsticks…"

He swallowed as her fingers traced the inside of his wrist. "I think I'll just come to Hogwarts with you if that's alright."

"What?" She stumbled over the beginning of the word. "But—where's your luggage?"

The disillusionment charm on his trunk fell and it was revealed at his feet, just between the two of them. "I didn't want to tell you if you shot me down, which I wouldn't blame you if you had."

Granger blinked twice before the smile he was used to curved her lips. "Smooth." She laughed, and then she'd launched herself at him. Granger used his trunk as a step, throwing her arms around his neck and she pressed her lips to his.

His fingers threaded through her hair, nails scraping her scalp. "Everybody knows."

She grinned. "Perfect."


End file.
